


Daylight

by LuthienLuinwe



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Nightwing (Comics), Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Angst, Date Rape Drug/Roofies, Dick Grayson Needs a Hug, M/M, Multi, Panic Attacks, Rape Recovery, Recovery
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-02
Updated: 2018-07-29
Packaged: 2019-06-01 01:53:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,080
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15132497
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LuthienLuinwe/pseuds/LuthienLuinwe
Summary: Dick is a wreck after a party gone wrong. Luckily Jason and Roy are there to help him recover.





	1. Where Did the Party Go?

**Author's Note:**

> There are MANY potential triggers in this fic, including but not limited to: rape, date rape drug, panic attacks among other things. If you have any concerns about a potential trigger, please contact me [here](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/luthienluinwe) and I will provide you with appropriate spoilers.

It was a shitty party. But then again, most frat parties were. He could see Roy out of the corner of his eye, sober, of course. Someone had to drive them home. Jason was chatting with some girl from his philosophy class. She was already trashed, arm draped over his shoulder and laughing too loud at jokes that weren’t even that funny. Tough luck, he wanted to tell her. Jason played for a different team.

He picked up his drink and took a sip. God, had someone dumped salt into it? “Relax, Grayson,” his study partner from his forensics class said, patting him on the back. “It’s a party, not a fucking funeral.” Dick rolled his eyes and took another drink. He thought he could see someone watching him from the corner of his eye. “She’s been checking you out all night.”

“Yeah, right,” Dick replied and finished whatever the hell was in his Solo cup. How much did he have to drink? He didn’t think it had been too much. But his head was already swimming and his coordination had become nil. Besides, it wouldn’t matter if the girl was checking him out. He was happily taken.

He stumbled and swore when he hit his hip on the counter. That was going to leave a nasty bruise for a few days at the least. “Careful,” the girl who had been watching him moved to steady him. Dick tried to smile and step away, but his muscles felt heavy as hell. “Come on. Let me look at that.”

It was just a bump, he wanted to tell her. It would bruise and hurt like hell for a few days, and then it would go away. It wasn’t like he needed first aid. But she had taken his hand and led him upstairs, and he had followed along, feet moving without him telling them to.

She pulled him into a room, probably one of the only empty ones in the entire damn fraternity. Couldn’t she have looked at it downstairs? “What are you doing?” he’d asked, voice sleepy and distant. He vaguely felt a hand on his hip. A rush of cold when she pulled the shirt from his body. He tried to put a hand on her wrist. _Stop_. The word wouldn’t come.

“Come on,” she had whispered into his ear. She pushed him back, not onto something hard, though. Soft. Nice. _Don’t touch me,_ he wanted to scream. “It’s all right, baby…”

* * *

“Shit, there you are,” someone was shaking his shoulder. His mouth was dry, like he’d swallowed a handful of cotton balls, and his head was pounding. He shouldn’t have been that hung over, right? “Been looking everywhere for you.”

“What the hell happened?” another voice. “Disappeared on us…” He tried to blink his vision into focus. Red hair. Black hair with a white stripe. Weren’t they downstairs just a second ago? He pulled the blanket back up over his shoulders. Even the warm light from the lamp next to him was so bright it hurt.

“Oh, you’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” the redhead shook his head. Dick thought he could see his jaw clenched, but everything was still fuzzy and double. “Dick, what the hell did you do?”

“What?” he frowned and carefully sat up, his stomach lurching when he moved. Fuck, he’d only had three beers. His frown deepened when the blanket fell off his shoulders. Why the hell was he shirtless at a party?

“Oh fuck,” Jason breathed, and if Dick hadn’t known any better, he would have sworn he saw pity in those eyes. He watched Jason and Roy share a glance, watched Roy shake his head and swear something under his breath that Dick couldn’t quite hear.

“Come on,” Roy sighed, voice resigned in a way Dick had never heard it. He leaned against Roy when he wrapped an arm around Dick’s waist. “Let’s get you home, yeah?” He nodded and carefully stood up. But the world was spinning around him, and God, he felt like he was going to be sick. “Careful,” Roy sighed and helped him back into a sitting position.

“We need to call the fucking cops,” Jason shook his head and ran a hand through his hair. Dick shut his eyes and leaned his head against Roy’s shoulder. Why would they need to call the police? He’d just passed out drunk was all. Not like it was illegal. Besides, Jason was only twenty. He’d get into trouble.

“Not our call to make, Jaybird,” Roy sighed. Dick wanted to ask what the hell they were talking about, why they were talking like he wasn’t even there… But everything felt heavy, and his eyelids were drooping, and he was sleeping before his next breath.

* * *

“I know, Jade,” they were moving too fast to be walking. His back was against something leather and warm, and bright lights were passing by them every few seconds. He could see the back of Roy’s head in the driver’s seat, one hand on the wheel, one clutching his cell to his ear. “Can you please just keep her another night? For Christ’s sake, you only have her every other weekend. I don’t think asking for twelve more hours is too much.”

He groaned when they hit a bump in the road, his stomach lurching all over again, and took a shaky breath when Jason turned around from the passenger seat. “It’s okay, Dickiebird,” he said, voice low, calm. Dick had heard him use it to coax a stray dog out from behind a bush once. “Almost to Roy’s.”

“You know what? We aren’t having this argument right now,” a string of swear words that would have made a sailor blush escaped Roy’s lips, and Dick flinched when he slammed his phone down onto the console. Dick heard him sigh and watched him run a hand through his hair. “I still think we need to take him to the fucking hospital.”

“He’s awake,” Jason turned to face Roy for a quick moment before looking back at Dick. “How are you feeling?”

“Like shit,” Dick answered. God, if he survived this hangover, he was never going to drink again. He could hear Roy’s phone vibrating against the console. Buzz. Buzz. Buzz. His head had been doing the same thing just a few hours ago. Was it a few hours? A few minutes? He didn’t remember.

“Hospital shit or sleep it off shit?” Jason pressed.

Both.

Neither.

Hell, he didn’t know.

“Sleep it off,” he decided on. Roy and Jason were smart. They could take him to the hospital if it got too bad. But it wasn’t like there was anything the hospital could do for him. Just a hangover, he kept telling himself.

Just a hangover.

* * *

He was curled up on his side when he woke again. He could see the sun coming in through the blinds. No curtains on the wall. Roy never saw the need in spending money on them. When had he ended up in Roy’s bed?

What had happened?

He didn’t remember.

They’d gone to the party.

He’d woken up.

He glanced around. Red jacket on the floor. Boxers on the chair by the bed. God, was it that fucking hard for him to clean up after himself? _Not your house,_ he tried to remember. He curled up further under the blanket, stale cigarette smell filling his nose. _Swear I’m quitting,_ Roy and Jason had told him hundreds of times. Usually he hated it. The smell was disgusting and clung to everything, and Dick had to wash his clothes at least twice to get it out. But now it was grounding and familiar and real.

He lay there for several long minutes, debating whether or not he really wanted to get up. What the hell had happened the night before? A sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach told him it couldn’t have been anything good. He pushed the blanket to the side, grabbed the jacket from the floor, and pulled it on. One day he’d convince Roy to keep his apartment at a temperature that wasn’t damn near arctic.

“Hey,” Roy greeted, and Dick just yawned in response before plopping down on the couch. Jason must have already gone off to class. Shit. What time was it? He glanced at the clock. 1:15. His evidence professor was going to kill him… “You hungry?”

His stomach grumbled, but the thought of food made him want to be sick. “No.” Roy nodded and sat next to him. Dick curled up beside him out of instinct more than anything else. “What the hell happened?”

“Dick, maybe now isn’t…” Roy started to say, and Dick moved away from him. What the hell did Roy know? By his count, he was missing at least twelve hours from his memory. He never would have let himself get that blackout drunk… “Do you remember anything?” he sighed, and Dick watched him pull a knee to his chest.

Dick shook his head. If he remembered, would he have been asking about it? God, for an honors student, Roy could be dumb as a rock sometimes. He shut his eyes and tried to think. But all he had was a giant black hole. Flashes of movement here and there, maybe, if he thought about it hard enough. “We think someone slipped you something.”

“What?” Dick blinked. “Slipped me… You think I fucking got roofied?” It was insane. Men didn’t get drugged. It didn’t happen… Even if it did, it didn’t happen to him. Couldn’t happen to him. He did everything right… “God, I thought you were supposed to be the sober one.”

“Dick, I’m serious,” Roy said, and Dick forced himself to look the redhead in the eye. There were dark circles under them. Had he slept the night before? Didn’t look like it. But he was missing twelve hours. And his head hurt, and his mouth was dry, and hadn’t they learned something about that back during freshman seminar? “We found you naked in a bedroom.”

No.

No.

This wasn’t happening.

This wasn’t fucking happening. Not to him. Because if someone had slipped him something… And Jason and Roy had found him… And… Roy was lying. He had to be lying. It was some twisted joke they were playing to get him to party less. It had to be. “Dick?” Roy tried to reach him, but Dick just shoved him away.

He was a liar.

But why would he lie?

“This really isn’t funny, Roy,” his voice broke, and he hated himself for it. And Dick looked into Roy’s eyes, looking for _anything_ that would show he was lying, that it was all some twisted game… But all he saw was exhaustion and guilt and pity.

And when Roy tried to hug him again, he just let his shoulders slump and his eyes screw closed because none of this was fucking happening. “It’s okay,” Roy tried to soothe, but nothing was okay, and nothing was ever going to be okay again, and he didn’t even know who had done it, or if it had even happened at all. “Everything’s going to be okay.”


	2. Santa Claus and Little Sisters

Round-off. Back Handspring. Double Arabian. He tried to focus on what he was doing, where his body was in space, focus on anything other than what had happened two nights before, if it had even happened at all. God, it could have been anyone….

Back Pike. Handstand. Layout. He stumbled on the landing. Needed to work on that if he wanted to keep his scholarship. Couldn’t keep a scholarship if he didn’t keep winning. Couldn’t keep winning if he let his mind keep thinking back to then.

He grabbed his bag and headed out the door of the gym. His hair was dripping with sweat, but he didn’t dare use the communal showers in the athletic center. What if it had been one of them? He walked across the campus, hyper-vigilant. Every face was an enemy and every whispered word was a plot and every laugh was directed at him. 

He held his student ID up to his dorm building card reader and waited for the beep before pulling the door open and heading inside. Catalina, the RA, was chatting with some freshman about adjusting to college life. She smiled and waved, and Dick nodded and headed upstairs. 

Fourth floor. It had seemed perfect when he’d first moved in. But then after a day of heavy conditioning, he was begging to be moved somewhere lower. Amazing how a summer could make you forget just how bad your muscles could hurt after heavy usage. He fumbled with his keys and unlocked the door before stepping inside, frowning when he saw Jason there. “How did you get in here?”

“Picked the lock,” Jason shrugged and stretched out on Dick’s roomate’s bed, ruffling the comforter when he moved. “How are you holding up?”

“I’m fine,” Dick lied and threw his duffel onto the floor before sitting at his desk and booting his laptop up. He needed to get his god-forsaken history paper done. What was the point in gen-eds anyway? “Aren’t you supposed to be writing a paper?”

“Aren’t you supposed to be analyzing a blood spatter?” Jason retorted. It was amazing, really. Roy was still walking around on eggshells with him.  _ Come on, Roytoy, it’s a party. It’ll be fun.  _ Jason had gone straight back to snark. God, though, he’d forgotten all about that blood spatter analysis. And he still had a history exam and a fifteen page ethics paper, and that meet was coming up and… “Dick?” Jason frowned and moved over to his bed, next to Dick’s desk.

“Read me something?” Dick asked and tried to focus on his computer screen. He needed something distracting, anything distracting. He listened to Jason unzip his backpack and rummage around for a book. Not like he needed to look hard. Jason was the most organized person he’d ever met. 

“‘ _ Because in nights like these, when I took her between my arms, my soul is not content having lost her. Though this may be the last pain she causes me to suffer. And these may be the last words I write of her,’  _ are you even paying attention?” Dick blinked and turned back around. Jason had his textbook open on his lap, highlighter and pen in hand. “Dick, maybe you should talk to someone…”

“I don’t need to talk to anyone because nothing fucking happened, okay?” Dick snapped. It was the lie he’d been telling himself for two God-forsaken days. Nothing happened. He just passed out drunk. It was just a hangover. Nothing happened…

“Are you two talking poetry without me?” Roy leaned against the doorway, easy smirk on his face. God, Dick really needed to start locking the door when he was in the room.  _ Just Roy,  _ he tried to tell himself.  _ Just Jason. Just Roy…  _ “I’m hurt.” Dick watched the redhead throw his bag on the floor before sitting cross-legged next to Jason, head resting on his shoulder.

“You’ll live,” Dick rolled his eyes and pulled up a Word document, staring at the cursor blinking on the screen. He had to start something. Because the paper was due in less than a week, the same day as his exams in two other classes that he wasn’t ready for…  _ Get your shit together, Grayson.  _

“Do your parents know?” Roy asked after a long, silent moment. God, could they not go a damned hour without bringing it back up? He shook his head. Of course they didn’t. Why the hell would he call home with that news?  _ Hey mom and dad. Just calling to say hi. Yeah, everything’s fine. Might have gotten drugged at a party. Where’s the circus this week?  _ “They need to…”

Dick shook his head and turned to face his boyfriends. “I’m not dealing with this right now, okay? Nothing happened. There’s nothing to tell.” 

“Okay,” Roy said with the same tone of voice he seemed to always use with Lian. “But Dickiebird, this isn’t something you can just ignore…”

“I can do whatever the hell I want,” Dick snapped, instantly regretting it when he saw Jason flinch. God, he knew better than to raise his voice around Jason… “Sorry,” he sighed and shut his laptop closed. Not like any work was going to get done that afternoon. 

“Look,” Roy said. “You’re taking in a lot all at once. I really, really think you need to talk to a professional or something about this…”

“Nothing happened, Roy,” he glared. And god, he hoped if he said it enough times it would be true.  He watched Roy sigh and stare at the ceiling. “Nothing happened,” he took a deep, shaky breath.

“Dick,” Jason sighed, and Dick bit his tongue to keep from saying something he would end up regretting. “We’re pretty damn sure that’s what happened.”

Dick shook his head and grabbed his bag. He shouldn’t have had to leave his own room, but he knew Jason and Roy well enough to know they wouldn’t be leaving any time soon. “I’m late for class,” he muttered. It was only a half-lie, really. He had a class. It just wasn’t for another hour. Roy had started to say something, and Dick thought he saw the redhead start to sit up in his peripheral vision. But he shut the door before he could tell for sure.

He wasn’t watching where he was going, and he ran into Catalina. God, living on a co-ed floor had seemed like such a good idea when he’d signed the paperwork the previous spring… She moved to steady him, and he froze, like his body was remembering something his mind wouldn’t. Every nerve in him was screaming to get away. “Something wrong?” she asked, a frown on her face.

Dick shook his head and tried to move past her. She moved, but ran a hand through his hair when she did. “You looked great this weekend,” she added, and God, the tone in her voice made him want to throw up.

It wasn’t her. It couldn’t have been her. She was supposed to look out for her fellow students… and surely to God it had been a guy that had… But his heart was pounding in his chest and his head was swimming, and he needed out of there  _ now _ .  _ She’s been checking you out all night. _

He walked past the quad, headed toward the library. At least he could think there. Hell, maybe he could even make a dent on one of his assignments… But his head was pounding and his heart was racing, and God he just needed a drink or  _ something  _ to get everything to quiet down again.

“Ah, Dick,” Dick blinked, trying to force himself back into reality. Professor Wayne was standing in front of him. How long had he been trying to talk to Dick? God, he’d missed the class the day before, and… “It’s good to see you. Jason told me you were feeling a bit under the weather yesterday.”

“Yeah,” Dick nodded. “Migraine or something,” he lied. “I’ll do extra work or something. Make it up…”

“Don’t worry about it,” Wayne responded. “Are you feeling okay? You look pale.”

“I’m fine,” he repeated. God, the lie was getting old even to his ears. He was the farthest away from fine that he could think of being. Well, maybe not quite as far as Roy had been when he’d almost died of an accidental overdose years ago…

And really, Jason and Roy shouldn’t have been worried about him. They had their own problems to deal with, and they didn’t need Dick’s on top of it. “Maybe you should head back to your dorm.” He shook his head. No way he was going back there. Not when Jason and Roy would just pester him about his sudden return, and not when his pulse sped up the second he saw Catalina.

“I’ll get some Tums or something from the bookstore,” he promised before excusing himself, heading toward the social sciences building instead of the library. He headed to his classroom, but the class before his was still there. He sat on the floor, back against the wall, and tried to focus straight ahead.

They weren’t staring, he tried to tell himself. No one knew. No one knew because nothing had happened. But something must have happened, because God, he had never felt this terrible in his life. He hugged a knee to his chest and tried to stay focused on a spot on the ceiling.  _ Don’t look around you.  _ It could have been any of them. They could be watching him right now, plotting to do it again… Maybe they wouldn’t even drug him the next time.

God, his chest hurt, like someone had grabbed his heart in a vice-grip and was pulling it out. And his breathing was shaky, and he had to have been dying. God, was that what dying felt like? If that was the case, it wasn’t peaceful, not at all. Dying fucking hurt. “Grayson?” a familiar voice had asked, but Dick couldn’t quite register who it was or where it was coming from or if it was even real.  _ It’s a party, not a fucking funeral. Chill.  _ “Shit, man…”

And whoever it was tried to get closer to him, and Dick shoved them away with more strength than he needed to, and he was out of that damned building before he even knew what was happening. And his hands were shaking when he pulled out his phone, and he tried to text, but the words just kept getting more and more incoherent, and he shut his eyes and bit his tongue, letting the coppery taste of his own blood fill his mouth before tapping on Jason’s name because Roy would have already been back home taking care of Lian. 

“Dick?” he could hear the frown in Jason’s voice even without seeing it on his face. “Babe, what’s wrong?”

“Can you please come get me?” he asked and sank down onto a bench near the building. 

“Yeah, of course. I’m on my way.”

He shut his eyes and sat with his head between his knees and tried to breathe even though it felt like his lungs weren’t getting enough oxygen to them. He was going to suffocate in the middle of the outdoors, and he doubted anyone would even care.

It was an eternity before Jason got there. And when the sophomore sat beside him, Dick didn’t curl up to him like he normally would have. “You okay?” Jason asked. And Dick shook his head because he obviously wasn’t okay and there was no point in lying anymore. “Come on,” Jason sighed and helped him stand, and Dick leaned onto him more than he wanted to because he felt like his legs were going to give out from beneath him. “Let’s get you back home.” 


	3. Behind the Mask

_ “You sure you’re up for this?” Dick nodded and  pushed Roy against the bed. He was off. He knew it. He didn’t fucking care. He smirked when the redhead tilted his head up and went straight for his throat. And then Jason’s arms were around his waist. And he couldn’t think straight anymore. And his stomach felt like it was flipping in ways that it shouldn’t. _

_ It was a stupid idea. _

_ Why did he always have to come up with the stupid ideas? _

_ “Okay,” Dick watched as Roy propped himself up on his elbows. “No. We aren’t doing this tonight.” _

_ “I can…” he tried to insist. It had been a week. He didn’t remember anything happening. Nothing happened, he tried to tell himself even though he knew it wasn’t true. He needed them. He needed to feel normal. _

_ God, he needed to be in control of something for once. _

_ “You can’t,” Jason said from behind him, and Dick just shut his eyes and took a deep, shaky breath, hating that he was right. _

“Mr. Grayson?” he blinked when he heard his name being called. It took him longer than he liked to remember where he was. He glanced down in front of him. Open textbook. Notebook full of words he didn’t remember writing. He looked up at Professor Wayne, whose arms were crossed as if expecting an answer.

He hadn’t slept well, had spent most of the night trying to apologize to Jason and Roy and listening to them tell him he had nothing to be sorry for. Didn’t he, though? It was his fault he couldn’t be with them. He’d been the one dumb enough to get drugged… “I’m sorry?” he asked and tried to ignore the snickers from his classmates. Were they even laughing? He didn’t know. Was it one of them? God only knew.  _ You looked great this weekend,  _ her voice kept ringing in his head. 

It wasn’t her. It wasn’t her. It wasn’t her.

_ She’s been checking you out all night. _

He wanted to scream at them all to just shut up and leave him the hell alone. He didn’t ask for any of this. He didn’t want any of this. 

_ Nothing happened. _

_ Bullshit. _

“The answer to question number thirty-six from the study guide?” Wayne continued, and Dick shut his eyes. He’d forgotten all about the stupid study guide. Shit. The exam was coming up. When was it? He wasn’t ready. God, he wasn’t ready. And he still hadn’t started on his blood spatter analysis that was due at midnight and…

“I don’t know,” he admitted and felt the blood rush to his cheeks in embarrassment. He flipped to the page on his study guide anyway, knowing full and well the answer space was blank. It was ten percent of his fucking grade. How could he have been so stupid?

“See me after class,” Wayne sighed, and Dick just nodded. He wondered if he could get out of it, slip out with the others before he could be caught. Maybe he’d get lucky and Wayne would forget. Yeah right. The man had an iron-clad memory. 

He needed to get over it. It was his fault, right? He must have done something. Must have said something… He knew better than to set his drink down, and he’d done it anyway.  _ You need to get tested for STDs,  _ Jason had told him after his episode two days prior.  _ Nothing happened, Jason. There’s no point.  _ It had been a bad night. Roy had had to go to a parent-teacher conference for Lian. Dick couldn’t blame him. She came first. She always would. She always should. But Jason had no fucking clue what to do, and neither did Dick. 

Everyone around him was packing up their things, and Dick swore when he realized he’d spaced again. _ Get your shit together, Grayson.  _ Only four more weeks left in the semester. Then he’d be home… And his parents would ask questions, and he’d be hours away from Jason and Roy and he could still call them, but it wasn’t the same…

He took a shaky breath and threw his book and notepad into his bag, not caring where they fell, not caring if the pages got crumpled or if his notes got destroyed. Not like he’d end up studying them anyway.  He tried to zip it shut, but his hands were shaking too much and wouldn’t cooperate, and God, how fucking hard was it to zip a fucking backpack? Lian could do it for God’s sake, and she was only in kindergarten.

He slung the half-closed bag off one shoulder and approached his teacher, feeling like each step was bringing him closer and closer to a path he wanted off of. “You wanted to see me?” He could lie. Say it was stress over a meet causing him to slip. There was one coming up. It wasn’t too far-fetched. But he thrived in competition and everyone knew it. He felt his stomach twist in ways it shouldn’t have and tried to tell himself it was just the lack of air-conditioning in the building making him sweat. In the middle of October.

Wayne nodded. “Come to my office.” Great. It would be a long talk then. Maybe even a suggestion that he should withdraw from the course before the final drop date. But he couldn't. He needed to stay in to keep his scholarship, and God he needed that scholarship. He followed Wayne out of the classroom, down the stairs, and into his cramped office. God, it was so different from any other professor’s. Anyone else would have cleared papers away to make a place for him to sit. Wayne’s was damn near immaculate.

He set his bag down on the floor and sat in the plastic chair across from the desk, watching as Wayne took a seat in his office chair behind it. “What’s going on, Dick?” he asked with a deep sigh. “It’s not like you to miss assignments.” He started to open his mouth, to say that it was nothing. Just a rough few weeks. Senioritis come early? Like hell he’d believe that one. “Don’t say  nothing.”

“Just a rough patch,” Dick answered. It wasn’t a total lie, at least. When had he gotten so good at the lying thing? 

“Anything I can help with?” he pressed, and Dick just stared up at the ceiling.  _ You need to tell someone,  _ Jason had told him. The hell did Jason know about anything? He needed to keep quiet about it. Things like this didn’t happen. Not to him.

“Just,” he took another shaky breath and stared down at his lap. God, why couldn’t his hands just stop shaking for a damned minute? “I went to this party, and I don’t remember much of it? And I’m kinda just trying to figure it out?”

He watched Wayne frown deeply and pinch the bridge of his nose. Had he said something he shouldn’t have? Did he already know? Worse, was it him? No. It couldn’t have been. It had to have been a student. Had to have been… “Were you assaulted?” Dick frowned. Could he have been any more damn clinical? Still, he was grateful for the lack of judgment in his voice. Besides Jason and Roy, he might be the only one to believe him.

“I think so,” he shut his eyes tightly, never wanting to open them again. It was supposed to feel good to admit the truth. That’s what everyone had told him his entire damned life. But it just made him feel like shit, like the world was crashing down around him because now it was real and he couldn’t take it back.

He opened his eyes slowly and made eye-contact with the professor. “Dick, I’m going to have to tell Title IX.”

His blood ran cold. No. Absolutely not. The last thing he needed was for the university to get involved. They would get involved and anyone who didn’t already know was going to find out what happened and everyone was going to hate him and no one was going to believe him and everyone was going to make sure it was all his fault even though Jason and Roy kept telling him it wasn’t, but how could they be right when everyone else said something different? “Please don’t,” he begged and hated how damn fragile his voice sounded.

But he was struggling just to breathe and maintain a somewhat clear headspace. Everyone was going to find out. His parents were going to find out. God, what would they say? His dad would never look at him the same way again. His mom would cry and want him to change schools, and he couldn’t do that because he needed to be close to Jason and Roy. They were the only lifeline he had in this mess.

“Dick, I legally have to,” Wayne sighed, and Dick shook his head and grabbed his bag, shoving his chair back with more force than he meant to as he stood. Fuck him. Fuck this. Fuck all of it. He was supposed to be able to trust the man. What damn good had trust done him in the past? “Dick…” he shook his head and left, slamming the door shut behind him.

He was knocking on Jason’s dorm room door before he realized where he was. “Dick?” the younger man frowned and pulled his earbuds out. Had he been studying? Did Dick interrupt him? Shit, Jason was damn near failing a class and needed to study or he’d lose his academic scholarship and the last damn thing he needed was for Dick to get in the way of that… “What’s wrong?” he asked, and Dick shook his head again.

Jason had led him inside and shoved a bottle of water in his hands, and he had drank it without trying to argue. He tried to stay focused. Jason was asking him questions, but he couldn’t hear them, and the world was spinning too fast, and his head was going to explode, and the next thing he knew, Roy’s arm was around him, and Jason was rubbing circles on his back, and God, when had Roy even gotten there? Wasn’t he supposed to be in class? “Dickiebird, we can’t help you if you don’t tell us what’s wrong.’

“Everyone’s gonna know,” he choked out and buried his face in Roy’s shoulder. It was safe there. No one could hurt him. Jason and Roy wouldn’t let them. They wouldn’t. His life was over. It was over, and he was never going to get things back to the way they had been before all because he had been stupid enough to trust someone.

It had taken three years to build the reputation he had at the school.

And it had only taken a damned sentence for it to come crashing down around him.


	4. Title IX

He had a theory that the Title IX office was where all hope went to die. Pamphlets about sexual assault. Pamphlets about campus rape. God, he wanted to be anywhere but that damned waiting room. The e-mail had come a day after his meeting with Professor Wayne. He’d slammed his laptop shut. Jason had asked him what was wrong, and Dick had left Roy’s apartment without a glance over his shoulder.

It wasn’t fair to them. He knew that. None of this was fair to them. They would leave him, if they were smart. No one should have had to put up with the mess and a wreck that he’d become. _ You two go ahead,  _ he’d told them after another failed attempt at being with them, this time ending in an anxiety attack that made him wonder if dying would have been easier.  _ Just please don’t tell me.  _

“Mr. Grayson?” he blinked and looked up at the work-study receptionist. She was around Jason’s age. If she was lucky, she’d never have to be on the other side of her desk. He could already feel his palms sweating and feel his pulse pounding in the side of his neck. “Mr. Wilson’s ready to see you.”

Dick nodded and grabbed his backpack, not bothering to sling it over a shoulder. Not like it would be on long anyway. He was missing his history class for this meeting, and he couldn’t afford to miss class when he had an exam worth a third of his damned grade coming up and it was a weak subject for him to begin with.

“Ah, Mr. Grayson,” the Title IX director greeted. Dick had expected a kindly looking gentleman, not a gruff man with an eyepatch who looked like he would rather be anywhere but in their current meeting. “Please, take a seat.” Dick nodded and pulled the hard plastic chair out before sitting down in it, trying to look anywhere but at the man. 

God, could it have been a more uncomfortable room? The fluorescent lights were killing his head, and he just wanted to go back to bed and crawl up under his blankets and never come back out again. What was the point in any of it? He was going to fail his classes. He was going to lose his upcoming meet, badly if the last session was anything to go by. Jason and Roy were going to finally realize they were better off without him and leave him, and he was going to be so bitterly, bitterly alone because who was ever going to want him again after everything that happened? He was used. He was dirty. He wasn't fucking worth it.   
  
"Mr. Grayson?" Dick blinked and frowned, glancing at the man on the other side of the table. What could he possibly want? "Did you hear what I just said?" Dick shook his head. God, he really needed to stop spacing out at everything. He couldn't help it. It just happened. Just like he kept snapping at everyone, and God, it was really only a matter of time before they left him... "I asked if you could recount what happened the night of the incident?"   
  
Dick shook his head. Hadn't what Wayne told him been enough? How many damn times did he have to tell the same story. "I was at a party," he responded, voice flat, monotone. No sense in getting emotional. It wasn't like anyone was going to believe him anyway. This didn't happen. It didn't happen. It didn't happen, but oh God, it happened, and he was going to be stuck with that knowledge the rest of his God-damned life. "I think someone slipped something into my drink. I don't really remember much of anything."   
  
"And your first memory after the party?" Wilson pressed.   
  
Dick sighed and tried to process. Everything was still a jumbled mess. He wondered if it always would be. He was naked... There was a car? He woke up at Roy's apartment. Lian wasn't home. He'd worn jeans and a solid black t-shirt that clung to his abs in exactly the right way, and was that what had caused it to happen? "I woke up at one of my boyfriends' place."   
  
"Do you know who may have hurt you?" Wilson pressed. Did it fucking matter? It happened. wasn't that enough for these people?   
  
Catalina, the voice in the back of his head that he wished would just shut the fuck up said. No. It wasn't her. Couldn't have been her. He was twice her size. He should have been able to fight her off. You were drugged. Did it matter? "No," he answered, hating himself for it. But how could he say the name when he wasn't sure? It would ruin her life, and for what? There was no way to prove it. It was his word against hers, and he had been drugged.   
  
"Well, how about this," Wilson began, and Dick fought the urge to glare at the man. Those words were never followed by anything good. How had the line gone? Anything said before the word 'but' was bullshit? He couldn't help but feel it was a similar situation. "We'll send out an email about a sexual assault occurring on campus, anonymous of course."    
  
No, he wanted to scream. No. Absolutely not. People at the university weren't stupid. They'd figure it out. Student drugged and assaulted at campus party? There weren't that many parties. It wouldn't be that hard to trace Dick back to it. And then whoever had done it would just get upset, and God, they could go after him again and again and again...    
  
"I think that's what we'll do." Had there been more? He hadn't heard it. He wasn't sure he wanted to.   
  
"Can I please just go?" he asked, voice breaking. He wasn't going to break down. Not in the middle of that God-forsaken office. Not ever again if he could help it. God, why couldn't he just be normal? Why did any of this have to happen to him? What had he done to deserve it? Because he must have done something.   
  
"Of course," Wilson nodded, and Dick grabbed his bag and all but ran out, wanting to get far, far away from that building and to never have to step foot in it again. Catalina. He could have said it. It could have all gone away. They would have done something, right? God, he hoped they would have...   
  
God, what if it had been her?   
  
God, what if she hadn't used protection or wasn't on the pill? Why would she be?    
  
No. No. No. No.   
  
He couldn't think like that. He didn't want to think at all. Life would be so much easier if he could just stop thinking and let everything be quiet for once because anything was easier than dealing with the hell of his mind because he must have done something and he was a failure and Jason and Roy were going to leave him and he was going to be alone and scared that it was going to happen again and he was going to have no one to lean on.   
  
It wasn't right. It wasn't fair. "Dick?" a familiar voice asked, and Dick turned to see Jason and Roy, holding hands, Jason's face flushed in a way Dick knew intimately, and he didn't want to deal with that right now even though he'd told them it was fine even though it really wasn't and he just wanted them to be happy and leave him the hell alone because God, they were so much better off without him. "Babe, what happened? How'd the meeting go?"   
  
And he shook his head because it was all bullshit and he wasn't dealing with it and God, it wasn't happening. But when Jason took his hand, he laced their fingers together and squeezed it because it was warm and it was real and he could focus on it and feel like everything was going to be okay again even though he knew nothing was ever going to be okay ever again.   


"You can't keep living like this, Dick,” Roy sighed, and Dick shook his head, and he let them lead him back to wherever the hell it was they were going because it was so much easier than trying to put up a fight, because when had his opinion ever mattered anyway? “Got your ID?” Dick blinked and reached for his wallet, a robotic motion, and pulled it out. He watched Roy hold it up to the scanner. Green light. Beep. Click.

Catalina was sitting in the common area, chatting with a group of her friends. And his blood was boiling and God he wanted to wrap his hands around her throat because she had no idea what she had done to him, or at least what he was pretty sure she had done to him. She’d ruined his fucking life. She’d ruined everything.

“Dick?” Jason frowned and tried to wrap an arm around his waist, but Dick just shoved it away and headed for the stairs, rolling his eyes when he heard Roy and Jason following behind him. Why couldn’t they just leave him alone?

He tried to unlock his door, but his hands were shaking and he dropped his keys, and he just stood there staring at him because God, he couldn’t even do that right. He shut his eyes tightly and took a shaky breath. He heard the jingle of the keys being picked back up and heard the lock click and the door open.

He felt Jason’s hands guiding him inside and felt Roy’s hands gently pushing him down onto his bed.  _ That’s right, baby.  _ A noise caught in his throat, and he thought he heard one of them, he couldn’t place which, say something, but everything was just so damned far away. He lay down and curled up on his side.  _ It’s all right, baby…  _

He felt something heavy and warm being draped over him, and he clutched it in a death grip. It was safe under his blankets. No one could hurt him there. Everything was fine…  _ It’s all right.  _ “Get some sleep, Prettybird,” Roy sighed, and Dick just nodded. “God knows you need it.”


	5. Ready to Grow Young Again

_ Dear Students, _

_ Under law, we are required to disclose when a crime has occurred on campus. Approximately one week ago, on Sunday October 16, a student was sexually assaulted at a fraternity party held on campus. The fraternity in question is being placed under investigation. The Title IX office will be holding several seminars throughout the remainder of the semester on the importance of consent and ways to keep yourself safe. _

_ We believe this is an isolated incident, and that there is no need to worry for your safety. Remember, absence of a no is not presence of a yes. As always, please remember that Gotham University is a dry campus. _

_ Sincerely, _

_ University Staff _

He lay in his bed and stared up at the ceiling. Anything was better than letting his mind wander to places he didn’t want it to go. He'd worked too hard in practice. He was lucky he didn't sprain anything, the coach had said. So he'd mistimed a swing on the pommel horse. He never liked that event all that much anyway.

Needed to get his head back to being clear. Needed to stay focused. Needed to keep winning. Needed everything to stop.

He rolled over and stared at his clock. Another missed class he'd have to come up with a lie about. More missed assignments he'd get zeros on.

Like it even fucking mattered anymore.

His head was swimming and swimming and swimming and he couldn't think straight, and he tried not to think about the last time he couldn't think straight because the only thing he could remember was movement and floating and fear.

It wasn't rape, he tried to tell himself, just like he kept telling himself. And no matter how many times he tried to tell himself, he knew it wasn't true.

He didn't say no.

He couldn't say no, Jason had argued with him.

It wasn't the same thing.

So what the hell would he call it if someone took advantage of a drugged girl?

Rape.

"I know this is hard, Prettybird," Roy had said the last time Dick had been over at his apartment. Lian was staying with Jade that weekend. Normally he, Roy, and Jason would have used it for... other activities. But Dick didn't even want to start to think about what those other activities would entail.

Dick had wrapped a throw blanket around his shoulders and rested his head against Roy's shoulder, legs kicked over Jason's lap.

He didn't see how they could still love him.

Did it count as cheating?

They said it didn't, but what the hell did they know anyway?

No one should ever love him again, not after.

He groaned when he heard his phone buzz and turned to check it. Missed text from Catalina.  _ It wasn't her. It wasn't her. It wasn't her.  _ 'You missed class. Everything okay?'

'Fine,' he'd responded and thought that he really should delete her number. 'Just not feeling well.'

But if he deleted her number, he was admitting she won.  _ It wasn't her.  _ If he deleted her number, she'd know he knew, or at least suspected.  _ It wasn't her.  _ If he deleted her number, he admitted that a girl he easily had seventy pounds on had taken advantage of him in a drugged state.

_ It wasn't her. _

'Need me to come take care of you?' his stomach twisted in ways he didn't want it to. No. He never wanted to see her again. He never wanted to be near her ever again. He groaned when he heard a knock at his door. Roy and Jason were both in class, and he wasn’t expecting anyone.  _ Please don’t be her.  _

He rolled out of his bed, pulled yesterday’s t-shirt on, and approached the door. He opened it and frowned for a moment before his face broke into a huge grin. “Sweetheart,” Mary Grayson smiled kindly and pulled him into a tight hug. Dick glanced over her shoulder, and his smile broadened when he saw his father standing behind her. “You haven’t called in days! We were so worried. And you have a competition coming up, and we wanted to watch...”

“Sorry,” he muttered, trying to keep his voice calm and even despite everything in his body screaming at him to fall apart. At least his roommate was still in class and wouldn’t be able to witness it.

“You look terrible,” John commented, and Dick resisted the urge to make a snappy comment. He needed to keep it together, to act like everything was fine. “We would have called, but we wanted to surprise you. Your nice RA let us in. Such a sweet girl.”

He felt his blood run cold and he screwed his eyes shut. So much for acting normal. “Sweetheart?” he heard his mother ask, but God she seemed so far away. And a pair of strong arms wrapped around him, joining hers, and his shoulders were shaking, and he hated himself all the more for it. “What’s wrong, my love?” And how could she be so kind and gentle to him? If she knew, God if she knew...

Dick shook his head. They couldn’t find out. They could never find out. They wouldn’t believe him. They’d think he was a liar. Or worse, they would believe him and they’d want him to come home or they’d want to sue the school or God only knew what else that would just make everything hundreds of thousands of times worse.

“Richard, you’re scaring us,” John put a strong hand between Dick’s shoulder blades, and that was all it took for his guard to drop and his shoulders to heave and his sobs to escape his throat.

Had he cried after, back at Roy’s place?

He couldn’t remember.

Part of him was glad he couldn’t remember.

Most of him was horrified he couldn’t remember.

And his mother tried to hug him again, but Dick had instinctively pulled away, and his father had grabbed him instead, and God, he wished he could go back to being the scared kid who had choked at Worlds. He had been so terrified his parents would yell at him. That they’d be disappointed. But they had just held him and told him it was okay, and they were proud of him no matter what.

Would they still be proud of him if they knew?

“What happened, little Robin?” Mary asked, her voice shaking, and John led him over to his bed so he could sit down. Dick rested his head on his father’s shoulder and tried to calm down enough to speak. And Mary was sitting next to him, her hand on his shoulder, and he wished he were still shorter than them so he could curl up beside them and never leave, safe in their arms forever.

He took a shaky breath and screwed his eyes shut, not wanting to see their faces when he finally said it. “I was raped at a party.” And his voice broke, and another sob caught in his throat, and he could hear his mother gasp and hear his father take in a sharp breath and swear under his breath, and he  _ hated  _ that he was the one to cause what was supposed to be a happy visit to come spiraling down.

“Oh, my sweet boy,” his mother said softly and wrapped her arms around him, and Dick didn’t even try to fight the tears anymore because what was the point? They knew. He knew. It had happened and he couldn’t undo it, and that hurt was going to stay with him, and holding it in hadn’t been doing him a hell of a lot of good.

“Who did this to you?” his father demanded, and Dick just shook his head because he had a fairly good idea but he couldn’t prove it and there was no sense in causing more drama than was necessary and his phone was buzzing and he  _ knew  _ it was her and God he didn’t want to check it because the last thing on the face of the planet he wanted to do was talk to her. “Dick, if you tell us we can help you…”

“I don’t know,” he blurted out. “I was drugged, okay? I don’t know.”

“Then maybe you are just misunderstood…”

“I’m not misunderstood,” Dick shook his head, his breath catching in his throat because of course they didn’t believe him. No one but Jason and Roy were ever going to believe him… “I know what happened.”

He watched as his father stood and ran a hand through his hair, pacing the dorm room, and God, Dick was glad his roommate was still gone.  _ Please just stay away.  _ “There has to be something we can do. The university isn’t doing anything?”

“They can’t do anything,” Dick shook his head. His mother had a death grip on his arm, and for once he didn’t mind. She was safe. She would keep him safe. She wouldn’t let anything bad happen to him again if she could help it.

“You never should have left home,” John sighed and sat back down, and Dick just shut his eyes again because maybe he was right. They had fought about it often enough.  _ You already have a career here!  _ His mother had insisted.  _ Why do you need to go off to learn how to risk your life? _

_ Because it’s what I want to do. _

“It was my fault,” he tried to say, but his mother shook her head and squeezed his arm even more tightly. “I should have known something was wrong or that something was in my drink, and I must have done something or…”

“ _ Dosta,”  _ she said firmly. “No more of this blaming yourself. This was not your fault, my sweet Robin.” He’d dropped the nickname years ago. It had always made him feel like a child. Now, though it gave him comfort in a way that nothing else could. 

Roy and Jason were wonderful. They were doing everything right.

But sometimes he just needed his parents.

And the tears were coming again before he could stop them, and his mother and father held him tightly as the tears turned into sobs. “It’s all right, my love,” Mary said softly. “We are here now.”

God, he never wanted them to leave.


End file.
